Forged by Greed

by Angela Orlowski-Peart

  She squeezed her eyes. Her breath was shaky and shallow. Her body shimmered in and out, taking on an ethereal appearance then becoming physical again.

  “J, what are you doing?” Jatred whispered, frightened. “Look.” His eyes slid to the Amulet dangling down from her fist. The blue stone shone, lit from the inside by a pulsing source of light.

  Jatred gripped Jasmira’s hand. This time his fingers didn’t go through like they did before, when she appeared as an illusion. Her body was solid again. She held onto the chain halfway between the jewel and the clasp. The clasp flew open. One side of the chain encircled his wrist. The other part snaked around Jasmira’s wrist. Unexpectedly, it bound them in a vice-like grip. The metal felt as cold as a sheet of ice. They both yelled and tried to pull free, but it wouldn’t budge.

  A spiraled script became visible on the jewel’s edge, the symbols shone like liquid gold. The teens frantically tried again to yank their hands away. The runes kept crawling around the gem, barely touching its surface.

  “What’s going on? What is this?” Jatred growled. A sudden gust of wind tousled his hair.

  “I don’t know. What does it say?” Jasmira shrieked. A storm broke around them. The wind became so strong, it made them stagger. They struggled to stay on their feet, turning their faces away from the wind to breathe.

  “The letters look almost Arabic, but that’s not it.” Jatred tugged on the chain once more, this time with both hands.

  Jasmira momentarily lost her balance, but regained it quickly. She shouted over the storm, “Stop pulling. It’s not working. Concentrate on getting back to the Human World!”

  “What? How—”

  “Just do it!” Her features twisted with horror. Sweat trickled down her back, and she shook with panic.

  They tore their eyes from the lazily spiraling runes and looked at each other. Jatred saw the Summer Goddess in his peripheral vision and turned his head. But she wasn’t there. A cold fear crept on his sweat-covered skin. He swore and squeezed his eyes. His uncle’s smiling face came to his mind. Jatred whispered hastily, “Imagine someone from the Human World.”

  Jasmira concentrated on Penelope’s features, and felt a rush of hot air over her face and body. She heard Jatred grunt in pain, and everything went still.

  CHAPTER 18

  Human World, November 16, evening.

  Jatred clumsily stroked Jasmira’s hair. She lay sleeping on the sofa, and her head was in his lap. Her tresses were scattered in a shiny fan behind her head. Her full lips were parted, and her long dark lashes cast shadows on her cheeks. Jatred studied her face, thick eyebrows and smooth, dark honey-colored skin.

  He was careful not to wake her. He also didn’t want to alert Penelope—who, most likely, was spending a night at the mansion—about his and Jasmira’s return. Last time they saw Penelope was about two hours ago, when she and the other Summer teens witnessed Jasmira’s flight to the basement, and Jatred’s chase after her. Jatred didn’t feel like explaining the situation to Penelope right now.

  Jatred took Jasmira’s hand in his. He lightly kissed each finger. He lingered over her palm, caressing it with his lips. He recalled how wonderful Jasmira’s touch felt and how her half-closed black eyes had locked with his. Jatred thought about their kisses—longing, deep, and sensual. He pressed her hand to his chest. His heart skipped a beat, when his thoughts wandered to the Winter Goddess.

  Jatred picked up the Amulet from the floor next to the sofa and, looking at Jasmira, whispered, “I love you. No damn Goddess can change that.”

  He held the Amulet up to his face, staring at the large blue jewel. Subtle blue rays irradiated his skin. They danced in a lazy rhythm, commanded by the Amulet swinging in his hand. Jatred felt something disturbingly heavy in his chest, something slowly taking his breath away. He gasped for air, feeling his throat tightening. The room spun in front of his eyes, and the darkness enveloped him. The Winter Goddess had summoned him to her Realm.

  ***

  Winter Realm.

  Tall, snow-covered trees guarded a wavy stream. Puffs of white snow piled up on either side of it. The water surface was frozen. A pair of large silver fish swam under the ice. They playfully chased one another, moving in circles, and then quickly darting away, only to return after a moment, and continue their peaceful dance.

  Jatred looked around. For a moment he felt confused. But then he understood. Panic made a heavy mark on his handsome face. Jatred’s boots started to crumble, like gigantic cookies and his feet sunk deep into the snow. He wore only a thin shirt, jeans and socks, but it didn’t matter. Jatred didn’t feel cold. He was burning hot with fear.

  When he unsuccessfully tried to shift, a velvety whisper broke the silence, “Prince Jatred, son of Luther and Queen Joselynn.” Jatred knew that voice. “You have done the unthinkable. You passed the Amulet to the Summer Princess before our one thousand years’ time was over. And now you will pay the price.”

  Jatred knew he was about to get hurt, and maybe even die. He wasn’t even sure anymore if he was afraid to die. But a simple, irrepressible fear of the Goddess made his heart pound and his breath ragged.

  “It was a simple misunderstanding,” his raspy voice shivered, and his whole body shook, though he tried to control it.

  The Goddess was furious but she let Jatred defend himself. He wanted to take it as a good sign, but he knew better. She wasn’t merciful.

  “My Goddess. I would never betray you or my own Race,” Jatred stated, trying not to let a pleading note into his voice. He straightened his spine, disregarding the fact that his legs were about to buckle. “But I love Jasmira, despite our differences. And she loves me—”

  “Love doesn’t have anything to do with it. She simply used you,” Crystal cut him off. Her voice boomed in the air.

  Jatred didn’t answer.

  “I don’t doubt your own intelligence and sense of responsibility, Prince Jatred. But you need to prove your loyalty to me. You will fight one of my Garhanans.”

  Jatred felt a trickle of hot sweat running down his back. If his heart could pound any more fiercely after this announcement, it would force its way out of his chest.

  How could fighting the Garhanan prove my loyalty to her? This doesn’t make any sense.

  The Goddess’s shimmering silhouette was barely visible in the bright air. She lifted her hand. The Amulet hung from her fingers. Its blue stone glowed and pulsed.

  A low, angry growl hit Jatred’s ears like a hammer. He turned and saw a massive figure crashing its way through the snow. Although he’d only seen the drawings of the Winter monsters, he knew it was a Garhanan. There was nothing pleasing in the way the creature looked, smelled, or sounded. Even its movements were horrid. A flat nose sat in the middle of the meaty face. The Garhanan’s bushy white brows stuck out, shading small beady eyes. Its arms were muscular and swung down past its strong knees. The back, chest, and thighs were colossal too. The beast’s whole body was covered in white, sparse, long fur.

  “Great,” Jatred snarled, his jaws clenching. He tried not to show how much the Garhanan scared him.

  Without moving its eyes from Jatred, the monster unhurriedly pressed forward, its body tense. They circled each other, arms stretched out to the sides, knees bent, gradually closing in. Out of nowhere, shot two small balls of shiny matter. Tails of fire trailed behind them. They looked like tiny comets in the night sky. Both, Jatred and the Garhanan turned their heads, tracing the objects flying around them. One of the orbs circled the monster’s head, making its eyes open wide and its head quiver. The second flew straight toward Jatred’s back. It entered his body and momentarily outlined him with bright light. The other spirit-like element sailed away from the Garhanan and disappeared.

  Jatred grunted in discomfort and shivered. His concentration doubled and any prior fears vanished. He felt strong and confident, the way he had never felt before. The Garhanan didn’t scare him anymore, and now Jatred viewed the monster as a minor nuisance; somethi
ng that he needed to deal with quickly and efficiently.

  In his peripheral vision he saw a pack of huge wolves, walking out from the woods. They bowed to Crystal and sat in a safe distance. The wolves’ coats varied from silver-gray, to black, to pure-white.

  With an ear-rending roar, the Garhanan charged forward, its mouth wide open, spit flying. Dark lips were pulled back to show short, stocky, uneven teeth. Jatred moved quickly to the side. But the beast managed to scrape his upper arm with its thick claws. A burning pain shot through the wound, and Jatred winced and gritted his teeth. Blood streamed down his arm in a bright-red ribbon, dripping onto the snow. The wolves yelped in distress. He felt strange, boiling anger surge through him. He watched the Garhanan stop and turn around. Its beady eyes assessed Jatred. The monster calculated his next move. But Jatred already knew the best tactic, as if some experienced fighter controlled his mind and body.

  With a speed never seen in humans, Jatred turned and jumped, throwing himself onto the monster’s back. Right before landing, he bent his elbow, drawing the arm back and forth. His fist hit the creature’s meaty, flat ear. The Garhanan bellowed. Its head jerked under the impact, and the monster staggered. Jatred leapt to the ground and rolled away. The wolves howled and barked in applause.

  The beast faced Jatred again. He tried to deliver another strong blow, this time onto his opponent’s nose. The Garhanan quickly moved its head. Jatred’s fist flew a few inches away from its face.

  The monster grabbed Jatred’s extended arm and pulled him down to the ground. Jatred didn’t have time to react. He smacked the snow-covered ground with a thump. The creature moved to grab his hair, but Jatred rolled swiftly away. He scrambled to his feet. His elbow hit the ground when he fell. Despite the pain, he punched the Garhanan in the face. The monster blocked the blow with its arm. It flailed its other arm toward Jatred, leaving three deep, parallel slashes in his cheek. Jatred yelled and charged forward. The blood trickled from his new wounds.

  The wolves snarled and yelped, pacing. Crystal watched the fight in silence, motionless. Her brows were drawn together, her arms folded over her chest.

  Even with his injuries, Jatred’s concentration only became stronger. He flung himself onto the beast, grabbing its ears. He smashed his forehead hard onto the creature’s nose, then pushed himself off to get out of the Garhanan’s reach. The monster roared even louder, its nose broken. Dark blood dripped heavily onto its white fur.

  The wolves’ barking and growling oozed with excitement. Jatred kicked the beast in the crotch. The Garhanan bent forward and wheezed pitifully. The next kick hammered the beast’s throat, breaking its neck with a dry snap. The Garhanan fell to its knees, its head lolling toward its immense chest. For a few seconds it looked as if the creature would stay in this prayer-like position. But then the massive body swayed forward and fell with a loud thump onto the blood-splashed mud.

  No one dared to make a noise. Jatred dropped to his knees, right by the Garhanan’s steaming body. He felt relief mixed with remorse. This was the first time in his sixteen-year-old life that he had killed another being. Even as a wolf, Jatred didn’t need to hunt like his ancestors. He and the other Shifters were products of a long and complicated evolution that left them more human than animals.

  What have I done? A cascade of guilt washed over him. Even fighting for his life couldn’t, in his mind, justify his actions. And how was I even able to beat the Garhanan? This was his last thought before the Winter Goddess spoke. Her voice was cold and free of emotion.

  “You are a good a fighter. But your abilities are intensified here. The ancient Spirits of the Realm enhance your performance. That fire ball that shot into you was one of them.”

  All the wolves were now pacing nervously. Crystal ignored the commotion and continued, “You fought bravely. I’m pleased with your abilities, but…” her voice hung in the crisp winter air. “I am still unhappy about the Amulet. Never before has it left the Winter Shifter’s hands during our turn of its custody. It must permanently stay within the Royal family circle, Prince Jatred.”

  Jatred wanted to speak, but his throat constricted.

  “I will not let you get away with it, Prince Jatred, whether you did it on purpose or by a mere accident.” Now the Goddess’s voice lacked any emotion. “You will stay frozen, until I decide what to do with you.”

  The wolves that had gathered around had already changed into their human forms. There were several girls and boys, all teenagers. Bogdan, Lusia, Erik, and Georgeta stood next to several others. The Goddess’s words made them all protest with shouts of disbelief.

  Before Jatred could even feel scared or surprised, he lost his ability to think or move, and all his senses were gone. The enhancing Spirit shot out of his body and vanished. Jatred became a frozen sculpture of a kneeling teenager.

  A low murmur rolled like a wave through the group of Shifters. They looked wide-eyed at the scene in front of them: the frozen kneeling form of Jatred and the furry Garhanan, laying in the blood-soaked, feet-stomped muddy slush. It started snowing and, before long, both figures looked peaceful, and completely blended in with the immaculate, white surroundings.

  CHAPTER 19

  Human World, November 16, evening.

  The furniture in a small bedroom was sparse but well put together. Two large posters hung on the opposite walls: Star Wars and Seattle International Film Festival. Books spilled onto the floor from a solid-wood bookcase. Bogdan and Lusia sat in a in a tight embrace.

  “I feel so helpless.” Bogdan’s voice was sad. He ran his fingers through his sandy-blond hair for the sixth time in the last ten minutes.

  “Bogdan, there is absolutely nothing you or anyone of us can do for Jatred now,” said Lusia. Her face was wet from tears, her nose the color of a ripe tomato. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a large, wrinkled handkerchief.

  “Lusia, stop crying.” Bogdan gently caressed her spiky auburn hair. “We’ll think of some solution.” Both of them needed such words of encouragement. Neither one actually believed what was said possible.

  Lusia sat up straight. She started to dab her face with the kerchief, then blew her nose loudly.

  Bogdan looked at her in disbelief. “Use Kleenex. It’s more hygienic.” He took a sip from a soda can. He winced, and his hand went to his jaw.

  “Does it hurt?” Lusia asked.

  “A bit. I wonder if the Goddess threw us out of Winter Realm like this on purpose. Is it always like that?” He massaged his jaw.

  “That nasty bruise is already gone. You should stop hurting soon. What did you hit?”

  “Some stupid decorative boulder. I was lucky I didn’t break my glasses. This is the last pair I have now. Are you okay?”

  “Sure. I landed on top of you. I think Georgeta is fine too. But Erik got the worst of it.”

  “Yeah, I thought he broke his neck on that tree. He said he actually blacked out for a second.” Bogdan winced again.

  “The tree snapped in half. Must’ve hurt like son of a bitch.”

  “It was a small tree.”

  “Still. Poor Erik.” Lusia shook her head.

  Bogdan looked at her incredulously. “Poor Erik?”

  “Oh, you know. I always worry about everyone.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re fine though. No more trips to the Winter Realm, okay?”

  “Unless Crystal summons us again.”

  There was a knock, a pause, and the door opened slowly. Georgeta poked her head in. She smiled and asked, “How are you two doing? Recuperating?”

  “Come here.” Lusia motioned to her.

  Georgeta sat next to Lusia.

  “Darn it. Sometimes I just wish I was a regular human. Life would be so much easier.” Anger rippled through Lusia’s voice.

  “Lusia, don’t get upset again. We’re wolves; we’re strong.” Bogdan hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “There must be a way. Has anyone ever appealed to the Goddess?”

  “We shouldn’t
start anything we’re not prepared to finish.” Georgeta’s forehead furrowed, which made her look much older than her fifteen years. She was two years younger than Bogdan and Lusia. ”Even talk like this gives me the creeps. I don’t think this can be done. Crystal’s so freakin’ mean.”

  “Where is Erik?” Bogdan asked, looking at Georgeta.

  “Still in the shower, complaining about his head. He’s fine though. Don’t worry.” Georgeta sighed and looked at the window. Dark clouds covered the sky and delivered a clear message of an upcoming storm. “Hope we won’t lose power.”

  There was a loud knock on the door, and a low muffled male voice announced, “It’s me. Everyone decent? Can I come in?”

  The door opened wide, and Erik walked in. “Ah. I didn’t know you’re here too, Georgeta. Everyone alive and peachy?” He looked from one person to the next.

  Each of the kids nodded, and a series of grunts and moans followed.

  Erik scratched his chin. His sunny-blond hair was still wet from the shower and carelessly slicked back. He crossed the room in just a few steps and stood, looking out the window. His tall, muscular body blocked a big portion of the late-afternoon light, making the room feel even smaller than it was.

  The old trees outside the window creaked and swayed. Legions of leaves flew on the wind’s wings. The wind was growing stronger, bullying a row of skinny trees with its power. They swayed uncontrollably, bending their trunks toward the ground. The rain made a pact with the wind and whipped everything in sight, ruthlessly drenching it all until there was not a dry spot for miles.

  “I think the key is to know what the Goddess is playing at,” Erik’s voice was pleasant, almost soothing.

  “I agree.” Georgeta stood and joined her adoptive brother by the window. Her head barely reached Erik’s wide football-player chest.